


Martian Arts Club

by cybernya



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Alternate Universe - College/University, One Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-29
Updated: 2016-05-29
Packaged: 2018-07-10 21:16:58
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 961
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7008286
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cybernya/pseuds/cybernya
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Oikawa Tooru loves space, and has been waiting for the perfect space-related club to join.</p>
<p>He thinks he's found it, thanks to a green slip of paper.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Martian Arts Club

_ MARTIAN ARTS. _

 

The text caught Oikawa by surprise. He ripped the green flyer off the bulletin board and tried to mask his excitement as he quickly stuffed it into his bag. 

 

Finally. His people. Those who (unlike others) appreciate space and the unknown. It’d give him an audience for his theory on crop circles (which were art!) and perhaps new open him up to new interpretations and theories. Oikawa was practically vibrating as he walked back to the dormitory, shooting a text off to Iwaizumi, unable to contain his excitement any longer.

 

[sms to: Iwa-Chan] THIS CAMPUS HAS A MARTIAN ARTS CLUB. MARTIAN. ARTS. I HAVE FOUND MY CALLING.  (╯✧▽✧)╯

  
  


Once inside his room, he pulled the green piece of paper out of his bag, tossing his belongings onto his bed. There was a conspiracy theory group he considered joining, but this? It was as if a perfect opportunity fell right into his lap. Oikawa hugged the flyer to his chest before pulling a box out from under the bed marked ‘space.’ 

  
  


Iwaizumi grumbled as he felt his phone vibrate during the middle of class. He knew it meant Oikawa was trying to tell him something, and the number of vibrations meant that it was something important. During the break, he read the chain of messages, pinching the bridge of his nose before sending a reply. This man would be the death of him

 

[sms to: Shittykawa] Seriously? Don’t you have more important things to focus on? Like that test you’ve got in a few days? Or the rest of your studies?

[sms to: Iwa-Chan] THIS IS IMPORTANT! THEY HAVE A MEETING AT THE END OF THE WEEK. I’M GOING.  (✧∀✧)

 

He groaned at the immediate reply and slipped his phone back into the bag. 

 

It was going to be a _ very  _ long week. 

  
  
  


Oikawa was more excited than a child on their first trip to Disney. For the rest of the week, he sported a different space themed shirt, ranging from simple alien designs to a Star Trek uniform shirt. One peer in his economics class had the audacity to as when he’d die, as “all redshirts die.” Oikawa then spent the next half-hour loudly explaining the difference between the security red and the communications and engineering red,complete with images he pulled up on his phone. Iwaizumi had to drag him away before it went any longer - they still ended up being late to their next class.

There was nothing that could stifle the excitement that Oikawa had about going to the club meeting. He would not, according to Iwaizumi,  _ shut up _ about it, or about his theory regarding crop circles as alien art. And while that didn’t directly tie to martians, it was possible that his theory extended to other alien races. Iwaizumi heard every explanation Oikawa managed to think up, even at three in the morning. That incident resulted in a pillow being thrown across the room; he almost considered getting up to smother him, but that required too much effort when they both had exams in the morning.

  
  
  


The day of the meeting, Oikawa was unable to sit still. He fidgeted throughout his classes, through lunch and through the floor meeting. It felt as if the day went on for longer than it should have, keeping him from attending his meeting. The time finally arrived and Oikawa nearly sprinted out of the dorm, his backpack full of his theories and a few of his favorite documentaries.

 

After all, the flyer did say to bring _ gear. _

  
  


Even though he sprinted off to the building the meeting was going to be held, Oikawa arrived ten minutes early. It struck him as strange that the club would be meeting inside one of the classrooms where the gyms were located, but he didn’t let it bother him.

 

He also didn’t let it bother him when it was three minutes until the meeting and not one person had shown up. He pulled the green flyer out of his pocket and double checked the information - he was in the right place at the right time. Oikawa fidgeted in the desk, shifting his weight back and forth between his legs in the seat. 

 

Finally, someone else decided to show up.

 

“Are you here for the martial arts club? We’ll be meeting in the gym,” a tall redhead said as he poked his head through the door.

 

Oikawa blinked. “Martial arts? No, I’m here for the martian arts club. The flyer says they meet here…” 

 

“Martian arts?” the redhead blinked back, as confused as the other male staring back at him.

 

“Yeah, the martian arts club. Here’s the flyer,” Oikawa nodded, offering the redhead the green flyer.

 

“Oh… oh no, you’ve got it wrong,” he said, trying to hold back a laugh, “this is a flyer for the martial arts club. It seems as if our president made a typo… a pretty good one at that.”

 

“Oh.” Oikawa’s heart sunk and he nodded slowly, taking the flyer back as he shifted the backpack on his shoulders. 

 

“You’re still more than welcome to join us!” he said before waving, sprinting off towards the locker rooms. 

 

Oikawa sniffed as he walked back to the dormitory, not bothering to text Iwaizumi about the situation.

  
  
  


“You’re back early…” Iwaizumi noted, nose deep in a communication textbook. It was when he looked up that he realized that Oikawa was visibly upset, sulking as he threw himself onto his bed, face-down.

  
Before he could even open his mouth, his roommate sniffled loudly. “It was a martial arts club… there’s no such thing as a martian arts club on this stupid campus," Oikawa mumbled into the pillow, absolutely deflated.

It took a week and a half for Oikawa to get over the typo.

**Author's Note:**

> This was supposed to be happy.  
> Whoops.
> 
> Inspired by a typo I made!


End file.
